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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749554">A Touch of Color</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind'>AbsinthexMind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cheating, Comfort, Creepy Petyr Baelish, Escape, F/F, F/M, Fake Marriage, Girls Kissing, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Naked Cuddling, Ned's remains, Pillow Talk, Sneaking Around, Sneaking Out, Stark!Reader, Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:33:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If Renly was to have a lover, then Margaery wanted one as well. And she decided that it just had to be the visiting (y/n) Stark.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell/Reader, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell/Margaery Tyrell, Renly Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Touch of Color</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>	“Where have you been?”
</p><p>	Halting in the middle of your dark tent, you slowly turn to face the scowl of your mother as you pulled back your hood to reveal your startled expression. Bright blue eyes nearly glowed as Catelyn secures the flap of your shred tent. Even your direwolf Storm cowered slightly behind you as your lady mother reprimanded the both of you.
</p><p>	“I was just getting acquainted with Renly’s troops. If we want them as allies for Robb, one must go out there and play the part of politician.” Guilt was eminent as you told her a partial lie. Having been at Renly’s camp for a couple of days, this was the first time Catelyn had stayed awake to catch you sneaking in.
</p><p>	Eyes follow Storm’s large body as she settles in on the ground, laying her massive head on her paws. Meeting her sunburst eyes, Storm nervously switched her attention to a foreign chest that you had not noticed before. Her whine lets you know that something wasn’t right about it.
</p><p>	Your mother grabs your arm and pulls you further into the tent. “Regardless, it’s dangerous to be gallivanting out there. Even with Storm, you need to be more careful.” Her fingers were tense as they clawed into the fabric of your sleeve. Fear had been Cat’s constant companion as of late. Understandably so, there was much to fear. With your sisters being held captive in King’s Landing, your father’s beheading, and being forced to leave behind a crippled Bran was all too much for her to bare. It was inconsiderate of you to run off without letting her know. You were still young and she was ever the worried mother.
</p><p>	Relenting with a gentle sigh, you grab her hands so that they would stop gripping your arm. “Forgive me mother. But no one would dare to harm me. I’m as much of a warrior as Robb is. Plus we are their guests. Renly has been more than generous to us.”
</p><p>	When had she aged so much? Suddenly the weariness of all the recent events catches up to her as she slumps down on to the edge of the bed. Dark shadows plagued the bottom of her eyes, staring down at her bandaged hand that still bore the wound from the Valyrian dagger that had been meant for Bran.
</p><p>	Still, Catelyn Stark was still a beauty for her age. You hoped to age as gracefully as your mother, with her soft pale skin and high cheekbones you would be so lucky as to look half as regal. 
</p><p>	Tired eyes invite you to take a seat beside her. “Petyr Baelish paid me a visit earlier today.”
</p><p>	A serpent squirmed in the pit of your stomach. Instead of a mockingbird, Baelish should have taken the slug as his sigil. “What did he want?” It was then you noticed how red and puffy Cat’s eyes were. She was a strong woman, but when pushed she proved to be only mortal. 
</p><p>	She pointed to the chest that Storm kept a wary eye on. Aided by a quivering voice, she said “He wanted to try and get back in my good graces. With. . .” Her hand trembled slightly, not even able to finish her sentence.
</p><p>	You knew you would regret asking. But you needed her to confirm your fear. “What’s in it?” You sounded so small, so scared. 
</p><p>	“Your father.”
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>*
</p><p>	Margaery held you close to her chest, still humming a sweet song to you. You inhaled the sweet scent of her skin. You just couldn’t be in the same tent where your father’s remains were. To be reminded of the horrible fate he had. Such an honorable and good man put to death like he was any other kind of cut-throat. It pained you to think of the way he died. 
</p><p>	When the sun rose, you and Storm left as soon as possible. Making sure to be quiet as death and out of sight, you made your way to the safety of Margaery’s embrace. Into her slim arms that felt like they could protect you from everything. It had never been your intent when you first met Renly’s queen to take her on as your lover in such a short amount of time. When war was eminent and your life uncertain, you couldn’t afford to waste a single minute. As Margaery had assured you many times, her marriage to Renly was one of convenience. His bedmate was Margaery’s brother Loras. It was only fair that she take a lover of her own. Margaery made it very clear that she wanted that lover to be you. 
</p><p>	Storm stood guard, ears perked and carefully listened to what was going on outside. Margaery had grown quite fond of the direwolf, often trying to treat her like an overgrown lapdog. And your direwolf wasn’t completely against being doted on in such a way. It made Storm more than happy to see Margaery. 
</p><p>	Margaery’s fingers entangle themselves in your mass of black hair. She adored your wild curls, it was the first thing that grabbed Margaery’s attention when you and your mother had first arrived in the middle of Brienne of Tarth’s match with Loras Tyrell. The large woman successfully earned a place in Renly’s Rainbow Guard and you had won over Margaery’s interest. Truth be told people always recognized Storm first. Margaery claimed you were equally as terrifying as your direwolf. You took that as an immense compliment. In your brother’s own army, the men still viewed you as a noble lady who shouldn’t be playing with knives. They argued constantly with your brother when he insisted bringing you into battle. Northern men were so stubborn and stuck in their ways.
</p><p>	“I’m sorry. I should have told you about Lord Baelish’s visit. I didn’t think it was that important. . . I thought-”
</p><p>	You traced your index finger between her breasts; beautiful skin that she possessed. “There’s no need for your apologies.” Dragging your finger pad down the plane of her torso. “It is Lord Baelish who should be apologizing. Down on his knees with Storm at his throat.”
</p><p>	Margaery purrs and stretches beside you showing off the slight hint of her ribs below her full breasts. “My direwolf arouses me when she is bloodthirsty.”
</p><p>	You giggle and roll onto your belly to watch her as she lounged in her Myrish silk sheets. “Me being bloodthirsty isn’t the only thing that arouses your Grace.”
</p><p>	She nods in acknowledgement, her cheeks were still lively with a pink hue. Long brown hair cascades over her shoulders to cover her pert nipples. Margaery was a goddess among mortal women. “You just know what I like.” She cups your cheek, letting it slide down to the soft skin of your neck. Margaery leans in, lips descending upon exposed skin. The Stormlands proved to  be cold this time of year. Not as cold as the north, but cold enough to where most of your clothes had a high collar. Turned out to work in your advantage as it hid the bite marks which Margaery gifted you. Bright red tokens of her affections that you were forced to conceal. There were already rumors around the camp of Renly and Loras. You didn’t want to fan the flames with your own scandalous relationship.
</p><p>	Sensing that you were still upset with what had happened with your mother, Margaery sits up. “He’s still here. Would you like me to arrest him? I can have him brought to you and he shall taste your wrath.”
</p><p>	It was touching that she was willing to go to such lengths for you, someone she had just met a few days ago.
</p><p>	Her face was so serious too that you knew if you were to give your consent, she would immediately carry out the order. You knew your mother wouldn’t want that though. Baelish would always be her childhood friend who she always considered a brother. It was definitely tempting especially when you thought back to the chest where your father’s remains were.
</p><p>	“I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse.”
</p><p>	Leaning toward you, petal pink lips hover against your waiting ones. “Give me the word if you change your mind.” With that she kisses and prances off the bed to fetch her clothes. You had to start getting dressed too. Her hand maids might be in at any minute to help their queen get ready for the day.
</p><p>	Passing by Storm, Margaery stops and pets the top of Storm’s head. “Pretty girl, what do you desire for breakfast? Mutton? I can arrange to get you a whole deer.”
</p><p>	Not wanting Storm to grow accustomed to being treated like a princess, you stand from the bed and already pulling up your underskirts. “Storm can go and fetch her own meal. I don’t want her to forget how to hunt and grow fat.” 
</p><p>	“Let me spoil her. You and your mother will be leaving soon, correct?”
</p><p>	“Yes. My brother is waiting for me to return.” You made yourself appear busy by dressing yourself. You didn’t want to look at her. Not when her voice was so soft. 
</p><p>	She was by far the best lover you had ever taken. You would miss her come the time you would leave the Stormlands and return to your brother’s side. Before Margaery, you had never taken the same sex to bed; never even occured for you to do so. Women definitely made better lovers than any man. Or at least Margaery made love better than anyone you had been with. 
</p><p>	When her hand maids arrived, they were startled by the presence of Storm. Tiptoeing around her, they made their way to Margaery and started to get her presentable for King Renly.
</p><p>	“I will take my leave then, Your Grace.” They were getting her into a hand crafted cerulean gown. You had to leave if she was about to be undressed.
</p><p>	“Lady Stark.” Her voice was enough to stop your heart from beating as well. Hesitantly you turn your head to look over your curls. Handmaids pause in their work, eyes down but ears alert. “I would like to invite you to stay in King Renly’s entourage with me.”
</p><p>	You read her real words in those sweet doe eyes. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to your brother.”
</p><p>	Putting on your most gracious face, you lightheartedly giggle. “Oh Your Grace, as much as I would like to stay a day longer my brother requires my presence.”
</p><p>	“Anytime then. Whenever you are in need of a home, please feel free to seek us out.” Her smile leads to deception, something her maids didn’t pick up on. She was an amazing actress, your Margery. “My home will always be open to you, my lady.”
</p><p>	For the first time in your life, you wanted to forsake your family. To stay with Margaery was utter temptation, one that you so desperately wanted to indulge. 
</p><p>	All that your father died for resurfaced in your mind. Honor, Integrity, Loyalty. . .
</p><p>	Your smile hurt. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will keep that in mind.”
</p><p>	Quickly you turn and hurry out of her tent, your face warm and eyes near blinded by tears.
</p><p>	You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Margaery. You would stay alive enough to win the war against Joffrey and see her once again. 
</p><p>	You would survive for the one touch of color in your life. For the golden rose that made you warm.</p>
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